


Carved in Stone

by LickleSoxy



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LickleSoxy/pseuds/LickleSoxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Funnily enough, though, it</i> was <i>a being dubbed an angel that scared Michael.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Carved in Stone

**-o-**

**Carved In Stone**

There weren't many things that could scare an angel.

There were even fewer things that could scare an archangel.

In fact, Michael knew of only _one_ thing that he'd ever felt genuine fear towards. Sure, Father was all powerful, but He was their creator, and it would be pointless to hold any kind of fear towards Him. Yes, Lucifer had done terrible deeds, Gabriel was unpredictable, and Raphael was slightly unstable, but Michael was stronger than either of his younger brothers; they did not make him tremble in fright, in the slightest sense.

Angels did not scare him, at all. How could they? Being weak, pathetic beings, they held some of his love, but overall they were just as ridiculous as humanity when it came to power.

Funnily enough, though, it _was_ a being dubbed an angel that scared Michael.

The first time he'd set eyes upon one of the weeping statues, he'd been curious and maybe a tiny bit intimidated. He hadn't known it was of alien origin primarily. At the time, Michael had assumed that all life either began in Heaven or on Earth.

That assumption had been squashed on the very same day he came face to face with a statue that was only made of stone if being looked at.

Truly, the terror that had tore through him at the mere _thought_ of seeing another of those _things_ after that first encounter was pathetic. Upon figuring out that the being had not come from the two places Michael had thought made up existence as he knew it, Michael had instantly shunned the idea of accepting alien life. Aliens were disgusting, horrid creatures that had been created outside the realm of Michael's beliefs; they had no right to exist.

The problem was, Michael's desire and what was actual fact were two utterly different things.

Pulling in a deep breath, then allowing the air to pass through his lips slowly, Michael had to try and stop his wings from trembling. Right now, his hatred and fears were being brought forwards, and no matter how much he wanted to deny the existence of life on other planets, he wasn't able to get rid of the truth that was right in front of his eyes.

There were four of them, with large, solid wings and cold, emotionless faces. He knew that they would remain that way until he happened to glance away, because he was the only person able to see them, as they were currently in a blocked off alleyway out of sight of any humans.

And he was slowly losing control of his emotions.

Feeling unnaturally warm, Michael licked his lips as he continued to stare at the angel statues. Honestly, he had no idea where their name came from, as they looked nothing like true angels, but that didn't matter. Without a single movement amongst them, or one sign of life, the fact that they didn't - _couldn't_ , his mind reminded him - move unless he moved his gaze only helped add to his current, escalating predicament.

Michael knew that he should not have stepped foot on Earth until the time of the apocalypse came, but curiosity had caused him to come down to the planet. It was something he regretted, quite remarkably so.

"Where'd they go?"

The voice was unexpected; it made Michael's attention slip away from the statues for a single moment. That was all the aliens needed, though, and when he turned away from the woman who'd asked the question, he felt his fear rise when he realised the area in which the statues had occupied a second ago was now vacant of all life. Swallowing back his curse and anger, Michael closed his eyes and lowered his head in an attempt to regain some composure. An uncomfortable heat had settled in the pit of his being, making him want to fly away to Heaven and never even think of returning to this place.

Opening his eyes once more when he sensed another presence join the woman's soul, Michael couldn't help but shudder. Whatever it was that she had directed her question at, it was _not_ human or anything close to a supernatural creature.

Spinning rapidly on the spot so he was facing the two newcomers, Michael lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the male that had seemingly stopped all movement so it could stand there and stare at him. Its dark eyes had gone wide with a sort of astonishment, and its brown hair and attire screamed _human_. Either it was trying to blend in, or it was just a simple coincidence that it dressed in a similar fashion to the humans on Earth.

"Doctor?"

The woman - Martha Jones: a medical person with a good heart, Michael noted - was frowning at the male with confusion. The male - the _thing_ \- paid her no attention.

"B- But, that's impossible." The statement was filled with a tone of disbelief and, surprisingly, awe. Michael sneered.

"You don't belong here," he said, directing the words at the alien that was trespassing on his Father's world. What did it think it was doing? It wasn't powerful, held nothing that could be threatening to Michael. One swipe of his hand would break its neck.

"Who are you?" Martha asked the question. Finally having turned her focus to him, she now had her hands on her hips and was regarding him with suspicion. Michael snapped his gaze to her.

"I'm someone who's been here much longer than this... creature," he paused, drawling out the word with distaste, before continuing with, "has been alive. It does not belong here." Directing the last part of his sentence towards the alien, Michael kept his features set in an expression that would show the obvious repulsion he felt towards the... whatever it was.

Martha, entirely as Michael expected from the kind soul, clearly did not like his comments, and instantly turned defensive.

"Hey, i-"

"Martha, it's okay." The alien cut off Martha easily. Watching as it kept its focus on him, Michael didn't bother to change his posture when the alien pursed its lips and brought a hand up to scratch the back of its head in an almost self conscious gesture. Michael didn't care about its feelings, wasn't capable of feeling any sympathy for it. And, even if he were, Michael understood that he still wouldn't let his mind switch to kinder thoughts about the alien.

"Mind if I ask which one you are?" It was a polite question, yet it didn't deserve an answer. Michael knew this, but regardless of that he had no qualms with speaking his own name.

"Michael."

The alien's lips twitched upwards in a minuscule smile as it gave a nod of confirmation. Michael knew that, under any other circumstance, had he not been put off by the return of the other aliens, he would have already killed this one. It seemed this alien was intelligent enough to understand this.

"Come on, Martha. Got some Weeping Angels to sort out. Then we can go to that beach planet I promised you." And with that, despite Martha's very vocal protests, the alien turned from Michael and began making its way back out of the alley. Michael watched it walk, and even though it was stupid, he couldn't help but accept that his body had reacted to the two words - Weeping Angels. A cold shiver rushed down his spine, and his wings once again began shaking slightly as the name of the statues tore through his mind.

Almost immediately, Michael decided on a compromise, an idea that would benefit them all.

"Doctor." Using its name as a rational starting point, Michael waited until the alien in question turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. Michael tilted his head a touch, and offered a friendly smile.

"Remove those creatures you call... angels, and you have my blessing to stay."

It was the best he could do. His mind was shouting, yelling at him that this was wrong, that it shouldn't be happening. Aliens were dangerous. They were not natural, had no concern for this planet. They didn't belong. But, Michael's fear was greater. He wanted a solution to get rid of the other, more powerful creatures, without having to come into contact with them. This was the way. After this, if this alien, the Doctor, died, then that was terrible luck, but not the worst case scenario. And, if this Doctor _did_ succeed, then Michael wouldn't have to feel fear anymore, and could easily avoid any further contact with the Doctor from this point on.

It was the most logical solution.

"Do we have a deal?" Michael asked, hopeful.

The answering nod was all he needed.

**-o-**


End file.
